A storm cloud loomed on the horizon. I’d never seen a cloud like this in California. It looked like an atomic bomb blast, huge, mushroom shaped, and dark. Sinisterly dark. Lightening veined through it as if arteries of electricity fed the cloud life.

I was in bed when Scott asked me to come outside to look at the cloud this week. “You’ve got to see this,” he said after returning from kenneling the dogs. This was so unlike my husband. Weather never excited him.

We walked upstairs to our balcony for a better look. When I saw it, the cloud took my breath away.

“It’s north of the ranch,” I said anxiously. “If that thing stays on track, it will hit Mom and Dad’s house.” Six of our seven children were spending the night at the ranch with their grandparents. “That thing is a monster. It looks like something from the Midwest. I’m calling Mom.” With tornadoes tearing the South apart, images of that kind of devastation in California filled my mind.

“It’s up there pretty high,” said Scott. “The kids will be fine at your folks.”

I hurried downstairs anyway to the phone. After warning my mom of the storm headed their way, I jogged back upstairs to Scott’s side.

“Isn’t God’s power amazing?” he said in wonder.

Really, that’s what you’re thinking…? I thought to myself. All I could see was tornadoes and lightening and hail coming out of the cloud. Killing my family. “That thing scares me.” I winced as lightening lit up the night.

“God’s in control of that storm, Paula,” said Scott. “You need your sleep. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Since the baby had arrived, Scott was always after me to rest. I was surprised he’d gotten me out of bed in the first place to look at the storm, but then again, that storm was worth losing sleep over.

Ten minutes later my husband lay snoozing at my side. This I found nearly as amazing as the monster cloud outside our window.

Had the storm reached the ranch yet? Were the kids okay? I prayed again for God to keep everyone safe and marveled that Scott was so unconcerned. He and the baby in our bed looked like twins sleeping the world away.

What really weighed on my mind was the fact that God was in control of that storm headed for the ranch. Just as He was in control of the tornadoes that killed hundreds in Alabama and Missouri. God was not bringing peace to this world. He was bringing war. I felt small and helpless. Insignificant. Beggarly.

Above all, weary of this world.

This is battlefield earth, I reminded myself. My peace does not come from my circumstances. My peace comes from my Savior Jesus.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” John 14:27.

Give me your peace, Lord, I prayed. There is no peace for me on this earth.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms… I am going there to prepare a place for you” John 14:1-2.

My hope was in the Father’s house. Heaven… I finally drifted to sleep knowing that down deep I was safe.

Early the next morning I called my mom.

“We only got rain and a little hail last night. Everyone’s fine,” she said.

After doing my devotions, I pulled up the Internet news. Photos of destruction filled the page. The first funeral in Joplin, Missouri belonged to a devout Christian man. A tornado had carried him to his Father’s house. I was sad for his family, but not for the devout man. He was safely home and I was happy for him.